Bleeding magic
by ImprisonedByTechnology
Summary: Magic pulled him closer to the muggle club, alluring and mysterious. He went, hoping to make a strong wizard reveal how he possessed such powerful magic; instead he found a woman with red lipstick, the grace of a queen, and the loneliness he knew so well.


Tom Marvolo Riddle is not a common man, not even by wizard standards. He wakes up early in the morning to meditate and after that he studies for a while, even if he already has finished his formal studies. Many young wizards don't bother doing it, but Tom has always had a certain fascination with magic and its possibilities. As such, he developed a passion for experimenting with the theory behind the practice. He does all he can to excel at everything. The Heir of Slytherin cannot be a dunderhead, after all.

People say _once in a blue moon_ when they refer to a strange occurrence, and Tom wandering through the busy streets of London instead of focusing in some obscure magic, is one of those rare episodes. It's so uncommon, that the same Tom is confused about his reasons to get out of the unplottable house in which he has been living for a year.

The only thing that makes sense right now, is that he needs to find something. He doesn't know what, or why, but he can feel magic bringing him closer to its source. Tom obeys. Magic has done too much for him and he owes it at least this.

He keeps roaming without a direction for almost an hour; each second that passes pulls him closer to the source of magic. As he approaches it, he can sense the immense power behind the pure tendrils of the ethereal energy and he wonders once again who or what could be the owner of such magic. The only thing that he can compare to that kind of power is Hogwarts itself, but the Castle had accumulated magic for over a thousand years; how could there be anything with the same energy?

Finally, Tom stops in front of a fancy looking club called _The White Stag_. While the club is obviously muggle, he knows it's only for the rich. The muggles waiting to enter come in couples, dressed in the finest fabrics and some even wear diamonds and other gems. He finds them too pretentious, bragging of their riches in a country which is still recovering from a devastating war.

Tom can feel the magic calling him. He knows it's inside the club. How such a strong presence of magic ended up in a _muggle club_, of all places, is beyond his comprehension. Inhaling deeply he steps forward and the guard lets him in. He can hear the protests of the muggles in the line, but a wandless, nonverbal Confundus charm quiets everyone.

Surprisingly, Tom likes the interior of the club. He can see the owner invested time and money to get it just right. The decorations are neat and sophisticated, but not flashy or extravagant; the music, played by a quartet of strings, brings a comfortable and cultured atmosphere. He adjusts his tie and walks in.

Once there, the source of the raw power he feels is quite clear, but not what he expected. He had thought a mysterious and powerful looking man would be there, maybe with a strange and arcane object, surely a family heirloom. He would have greeted the man and made him talk about the source of the magic with no problems. After all, even if that magic is powerful, nothing can compare with Tom Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin.

But no. Tom sees no man. Instead, he follows the magic to a particular table full of woman, all younger than himself. Confusion sets in his mind, and he decides to observe from afar. Asking a waiter for a table close to the one with the ladies, he sits to wait and watch.

They all seem too normal for him. A blond one is giggling a bit too loud, as if already drunk from her drinks; she looks too muggle to be the source of magic. His attention shifts from her to the lady besides her, and he quickly faces away when he watches her winking at some other lady a few tables away.

For ten minutes he stares at one girl and another, trying to locate the strange magic. He is so focused in a redheaded woman from that table that keeps on glancing at him with a mysterious smile, that he never notices when another girl sits by his side.

"She's not what you're looking for" she tells him, startling him for a moment. His surprised eyes don't stay that way for long, and she softly laughs at him. "She's just flirting with you."

He feels it, then. As he stares into her blue eyes he can feel the magic radiating from her whole being. Her knowing smile intrigues him, and for a moment he lets himself forget the energy around him.

"How do you know what I'm looking for?" he asks her, not quite ready to believe what she would say.

Still, the only response he gets is a wider smile and her red lipstick becomes a distraction for him. He imagines himself biting those lips, his hands on her waist forbidding her to run away.

He's brought back to reality by her voice, and he can't help but notice how musical, wise and playful her voice sounded.

"Well, I'm sure you are not here to flirt with my friend."

"Your magic led me to you" he says, not wondering why she seems to know his motivations. "It's bright and radiant, like the sun, but even warmer."

The sound of her laugh is heard once again.

"That reminds me something, from a thousand years ago."

That gets his attention. Not the wording, but the emotion in her voice as she said it. A deep nostalgia invades her, and Tom feels the magic shift to match her emotion. He watches as she faces down and immediately knows she is on the verge of crying.

Tom is always proud of not feeling much besides desire and ambition, but right then he can only feel her longing invade _him_. It feels as if he is the source of the emotion and not the woman with the red lipstick. He doesn't stop himself when his hand raises to her face and touches her soft skin.

"What happened?" he asks her, watching tenderly her lips as she purses them. "Tell me."

The woman takes her time and Tom feels as if she were reading him, somehow. He thinks of Legilimency, but that shouldn't be able of crossing his mind shields.

"I was a queen once," she finally tells him, her eyes seeking his. "of a magical place. I ruled over a whole country along with my brothers and sister. I was crowned for the radiant southern sun. We were happy there; exploring new places, making sure there were no wars between our kingdom and the Calormenes. And we lost everything."

She frowns and looks away from Tom. He doesn't know why he believes her, but he does. If it's because of the strong magic surrounding her, or the strong emotion he can feel in her voice, he doesn't care. The only thing he wants is to feel her magic one more time, but closer to him. He wants her magic to surround him and let him drown in it.

"We were told we couldn't go back," she continues. "And we didn't. At least not Peter and I. Lucy and Edmund went again, with our cousin. They traveled all along the Eastern End of the World... Without us."

He cannot understand how he sympathizes with her, but he feels just the same. The way she talks about that strange world of hers... It's her home, just like Hogwarts is his. They both are the same.

"I had a home, too," he suddenly says, surprising himself more than her. "I begged to be allowed to remain there, but nobody listened to me. I had to leave my home."

Tom sees her wipe an unshed tear and takes her hand, bringing it to his lips. He knows what she feels, what she thinks. Tom wishes there was a way to make her happy.

"You did no wrong, my lady."

She looks at him, disbelief in her eyes. A sad smile appears in her lush lips.

"Thank you, but you have no way to be sure of that," her sad eyes reflect her longing for the strange place. "I don't know why he forbidden me to return, but it must have been because of something I did."

To see the pain in her voice makes Tom feel useless. He came to this place looking to confront a wizard to obtain his power, he could have done that. He hadn't expected her at all, but her magic had called for him. Tom knows the feeling of loneliness, of not belonging; of blaming himself for something he knows it's not his fault. This woman knows it, too.

"Let me heal you," he commands, wondering why he needs to see her smiling again.

"I'm not hurt." she tells him.

She looks at him, hope and carefulness in her whole being. Tom feels her magic again, stronger this time. He can tell she's afraid of trusting again, just like he is.

"Of course you are" he says, getting closer to her. "You're bleeding magic."

The woman stares at him before cautiously bringing her lips to his. The soft kiss she gives him is all it takes for Tom to understand his need for her. For years he sought power, thinking the old Headmaster was wrong on his beliefs. But the tender touch of the woman's mouth makes him reconsider his whole philosophy.

When she retreats and seeks his eyes, he knows she'll be his forever. The only horcrux he needs is her. The only piece of his soul outside his body should be her and nothing else.

"My queen," he says, offering her his arm.

The lady laughs and grabs his arm delicately. "My name is Susan," she says. "Susan Pevensie."

"And I am Thomas Marvolo Riddle" he tells her with an air of superiority. He might not be proud of his father's last name, but the surname Riddle will only be known because of his powerful deeds.

He watches as her eyes light up, shining with pure magic. "Susan Riddle" she says. "I like it."


End file.
